


The Price We Pay

by rosetalon



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, Injury, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Major Character Undeath, Minecraft, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosetalon/pseuds/rosetalon
Summary: What if the events of the Dream SMP's grand Manberg festival had gone...differently? If Tubbo had been saved, but Tommy had been lost instead? How could Wilbur live with himself after what has happened? Will he even care anymore, now that Tommy is gone, or will the loss of his friend fuel fury within him?This fanfic exists in a universe where Minecraft is real life, and players truly are fighting for their lives.Spoiler warning, you should probably watch the actual festival videos before reading this.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 246





	1. The Festival

Rage, alarm, and indignation burn in Tommy’s chest as he watches in secret from the roof of a building as his dear friend Tubbo is exposed as a traitor to Manburg and imprisoned in a box of concrete. He can only sit there and do nothing, as Technoblade, who had been working alongside them, is forced to execute Tubbo. Wilbur is whispering in Tommy’s ear, assuring him that Techno is on their side, that he couldn’t possibly hurt Tubbo. But Tommy’s heart is still pounding. Technoblade has always been a wild card, can he be trusted?

“I’ll make it as...painless as I possibly can.” With that, Technoblade aims his crossbow, loaded with fireworks, directly at Tubbo. Tubbo is backed against the wall of concrete, terror in his eyes as he stares down the muzzle of a loaded crossbow.

Fuck this. Tommy’s taking matters into his own hands.

“Tommy wait--” Wilbur’s cry for caution goes unheard as Tommy fires an arrow at Technoblade. Techno is knocked off of the podium, his rocket firing and missing, only managing to singe the suit of the president as Techno falls to the ground. The arrow in his side delivers sharp pain, but Techno is experienced in battle and won’t let such a minor injury stop him. Without missing a beat, he pulls a bucket of water from his backpack and throws it on the ground, the puddle of water catching him before he can hit the stone surface below.

Chaos strikes. Technoblade shoots into the crowd, sparks of fireworks burning the skin of those attending the festival. But he is wounded, and outnumbered, so he sinks into the water, aims his trident, and gets the hell out of there.

Jschlatt is preoccupied with patting bits of smouldering firework off of his suit, but his right hand man, Quackity, doesn’t falter for a second. He squints up at the rooftop from which the arrow came. Wilbur is there, and Tommy. One of them must have saved Tubbo. Judging by the look of things...with Wilbur seeming to be scolding Tommy for acting out of line, Quackity can guess that it’s Tommy who fired the shot. Watching their great festival from the rooftops like a couple of scumbags is one thing, but directly interfering with the president’s festivities? Well, that just can’t go unpunished. Quackity loads an arrow into his bow, ignoring the pandemonium in the crowd. He pulls back the bowstring, his eyes squinting against the sunlight, and fires. The arrow flies through the air, up to the roof of the building and straight through Tommy’s skull.

Wilbur stares, stunned, as the boy he had been arguing with suddenly falls to the floor. The arrow is wedged perfectly in his head. The feathered end is stuck in his right eye socket, leaving a bloodied mess in its wake, and the sharp flint tip is jutting out of the side of his head. Blood begins to pool beneath him. Tommy is dead.

Wilbur is still staring. He’s finding it hard to breathe; the smell of blood is so thick. He glances up to the presidential podium, then ducks just in time to avoid getting hit by a second arrow. It’s not safe here. He needs to run. He doesn’t even think about blowing the whole place up, as was his plan all along--his mind is too preoccupied by the sight of Tommy’s corpse, laying there on the ground, devoid of the life and passion it had held mere moments ago. He takes one last look at his friend, then bolts, jumping from the roof to a nearby tree, sprinting, as fast as he can. He doesn’t know where he’s going, so long as it’s far, far away from here.


	2. Vengeance Arc

Wilbur doesn't think of where he's running, he just runs. He runs until he can't run anymore. His tired feet bring him to Pogtopia, as if by instinct. He descends into the cavernous hideout, but only once he reaches the bottom does he realize how lonely it is in here without Tommy. No longer will he have someone to challenge his drastic decisions, to make endearingly naive choices that Wilbur will have to correct. No longer will he have that loud, foul-mouthed fire that burned strong in the name of their cause from the very beginning. No longer will he have his friend.

"Was I too hard on him, chat?" Chat doesn't exist. This is real life, not a video game being streamed for entertainment. Regardless, Wilbur has taken to talking to himself recently, and he feels less crazy if he imagines another entity, a viewer, witnessing these horrendous events alongside him. Is it good that he's always talking to a non-existent entity? Probably not, but whatever helps him cope. "Was I too hard on him? He went out while I was scolding him, chat. I'm always fucking scolding him. He just, it's always been for his sake, you know? To help him grow. To help him get stronger. I don't think he realized that. I think he just saw me as, as a bossy asshole who did nothing but insult him." Wilbur pauses, letting out a slow laugh. "Maybe that's what I am, chat. Maybe that's what I am."

"Talking to your 'chat' again, hm?" Wilbur is shocked by the sudden presence of Technoblade. Techno is the only other person to divulge in similar fantasies--always going on about some sort of Blood God, talking to a 'chat' of his very own, telling everyone to 'Subscribe to Technoblade' whenever he plunges his sword through their chest, whatever that means--he's a lunatic, and regarded by others to be some sort of murderous cultist. Then, of course, it stands to reason that a murderous cultist would be the best fit for sympathizing with Wilbur and his depleting sanity.

But Wilbur doesn't give a shit if Technoblade is trying to help. He needs someone to let out this frustration on, and if Technoblade hadn't decided to go through with executing Tubbo, Tommy wouldn't have shot him off, and Tommy wouldn't have died.

"You scumbag." Wilbur turns to face Techno, his jaw clenched with rage. "You… What the hell were you doing!? You were about to KILL Tubbo. I thought you were on our side! You were totally going to kill him, weren't you? Taking orders from the president, how could you, Techno!? If you hadn't been about to kill Tubbo, Tommy wouldn't have fucking died, Techno!"

Technoblade's pig ear twitches, his lips pulled into a neutral expression. He's uncomfortable with this situation, and he's never been great with words. He can't solve this problem with violence, so he's going to have to be careful.

"Wilbur, did you see how many guys they had? If I didn't do what they said, they would have killed him themselves, and then they would have gone after me. It was...peer pressure! I was peer pressured."

"Peer pressured!? Bullshit! What kind of PVP legend gets peer pressured!? You could have taken all of them, Techno, and made it out alive."

"Thanks for boosting my ego, I really appreciate it."

"I'm not trying to boost your bloody ego, Technoblade, I'm telling you that you backed down, due to 'peer pressure', and because of that Tommy is fucking dead!"

"Um, h-hey guys." The two turn their heads to see Tubbo standing at the entrance of the ravine.

"Tubbo, my man, my pal," Techno walks past Wilbur, towards Tubbo. His arms are extended in a friendly gesture, as if greeting a friend from long ago. "Welcome back. Glad to see you made it out of there. Not to plead for forgiveness or anything, but you forgive me, right Tubbo? Wilbur here is calling me a no-good traitor because I was peer pressured to execute you. You know really if you think about it I was just as much a hostage as you, Tubbo. They would have killed me if I didn't comply, you know it was nothing personal."

"Um, yeah," Tubbo is still quite shaken up, and his voice can't help but tremble. "Yeah, I understand. I forgive you."

"How could you just forgive him!?" Wilbur hisses.

"It was peer pressure, Wilbur." Technoblade shrugs.

"Yeah, he really didn't have a choice, if I'm being honest," remarks Tubbo.

Wilbur covers his face with his hands. There must be someone, something he can blame for Tommy's death. Maybe it really is his fault. If he hadn't brought him there, if he hadn't made him come alongside him for his foolish plan of blowing all of Manberg to the ground...Tommy would still be here. Wilbur feels a tentative hand on his shoulder.

Tubbo tries to give him a reassuring smile, but the fear still present in his eyes gives away his nervousness. "It's, It's okay, Wilbur, we don't need to fight anymore. I'm…" Tubbo hesitates, swallowing to keep himself from crying. "I'm going to miss Tommy too. But we have to stay strong."

Tubbo's sincerity is enough to finally get tears out of Wilbur. He rubs his face, trying to stop them from flowing, but he can't help it. "I just… fuck, man, I can't believe he's really gone… Just like that."

"I know. I know. It's horrible. I can't believe it myself." Tubbo pats Wilbur's back, to give him comfort.

Technoblade adjusts his cape, uncomfortable with the heavy emotions in the room.

"We have to get them back for this. They killed him. If they can kill one of ours, then we get to kill one of theirs."

Tubbo furrows his brow. That doesn't sound like the right thing to do, but he wants to provide Wilbur with the support and stability he needs to keep himself together. "Yeah. We can avenge Tommy."

"Did I hear a vengeance arc?" Technoblade chimes in, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"Oh yes, Techno." The tone of Wilbur's voice has changed. "We'll get them back. They're going to be sorry that they murdered Tommy. They won't know a single moment, from here on out, that they won't regret what they've done today. We're going to show them Hell, boys."

Technoblade is growing increasingly excited at the prospect of war. Tubbo has his concerns, but he keeps quiet, still keeping his hand on Wilbur's shoulder. Wilbur is smiling, now. He knows what he has to do.


	3. The Visit

It's been three weeks since Tommy's death. Wilbur has focused on one thing since that day; gathering enough materials to strike Manberg where it hurts. He doesn't have a plan yet, but he knows that one will come to him. His mental state has been increasingly unstable. If it weren't for Tubbo, he might have gone off and done something drastic. Tubbo and Wilbur have grown closer since Tommy was shot. Tommy was almost like a son to Wilbur, and Tubbo does a decent job at filling the hole in Wilbur's heart. Tubbo, too, lost a dear friend that day, and though supporting and reassuring Wilbur is beginning to wear on him, he's grateful that he has someone and he's glad that he's here to help.

Wilbur hasn't spoken to anyone but Tubbo and Technoblade since the festival. Even Quackity knows that if one of them so much as sets foot near Pogtopia, they'll be taken out mercilessly. It is because of this recent lack of visitors that Wilbur is surprised when he steps out of the entrance to Pogtopia to be met with Dream.

Something about the man's calm, yet dangerous demeanor is comforting to Wilbur. He wants, for just a moment, to fall into Dream's arms and cry at the loss of his dear friend. But he musn't show vulnerability, especially during a time of such tense relations. For all he knows, Dream could be here to kill him.

"Wilbur, I'm not here to kill you." Well, that's one mystery solved. Still, Wilbur is cautious. "I'm here to talk. I understand that things didn't go...quite as planned on the night of the festival."

"They--" Wilbur has to take a second to force his voice to remain steady. "They KILLED Tommy. He's dead because of them. That has to be a war crime. Can't you do something about it, Dream? Surely you see now the evil of Manberg?"

Dream is quiet for a moment, thinking. Who knows what is going on behind that blank mask of his. "I...believe that Manberg has crossed some lines. I believe that it would be dangerous to allow them to hold so much power. But at the same time...if I were to engage combat, if we were to announce war with them… You know how gruesome the war which you and I had became. But Jschlatt--I don't think he would accept any compromises. I think--if I were to declare war on him, he wouldn't stop fighting until he took over the world." Dream goes quiet again, thinking, as Wilbur stares at him with furrowed eyebrows. "I will...help you, as much as I can, Wilbur. But I can't engage myself. It would be disastrous."

Wilbur bites his lip. He already knew that Dream was willing to aid him. Why would he come here now? Why would he seek conversation now, when he could have actually done something to help at the festival? Wilbur looks up at Dream, squinting at his masked face.

"Why are you really here, Dream?" Wilbur asks, plain and simple.

Dream takes a deep breath, then he says it.

"Tommy is still alive."

This catches Wilbur off guard. "Still alive!? You're joking. The hell do you mean, he's still alive? I watched that arrow go straight through his skull, Dream, I saw it, all the blood, he fell to the ground--he is DEAD."

Dream just shakes his head. "...Bad was at the festival. When he saw Quackity shoot Tommy, he messaged us. When you fled, we carried Tommy's body with us to our base. Bad had a healing potion on him--it was enough to keep Tommy alive long enough to get him to our base."

Wilbur is silent, his eyes focused on the floor as Dream continues.

"We took the arrow out. We got all of the potions of healing, potions of regeneration, golden apples, anything--we got all that we could to keep him from dying. He didn't deserve to die for defending Tubbo."

"Where is he. Why didn't you tell me sooner? I've been worrying myself to death, why didn't you tell me he was alive!?" Anger begins to surface in Wilbur's voice.

"We weren't...sure if he would...make it." Dream is hesitant. He's choosing his words carefully. "We had to make sure it wasn't a lost cause before informing you that he was alive."

"So where is he then? Show him to me, if he's really alive."

"George and Sapnap are bringing him here. They'll arrive soon. I just had to get here first, to...let you know."

Wilbur can sense the hesitant concern in Dream's voice. "Is he...okay?"

"...We did what we could. But he had an arrow through his head, Wilbur. We had him drink as many regeneration potions as we could, but they can only heal so much. He's still…he's still missing an eye, and he isn't...really…"

"He isn't what!? Spit it out already!" Wilbur's heart is pounding.

"He isn't really all there."


	4. The Arrival

"Who'd have thought they could make Tommy even more messed up in the head than he was before?" George snickers. He's holding one of Tommy's arms, and Sapnap is holding the other.

"George! Don't be rude! This is serious." Sapnap scolds him, turning his head to frown at him.

George laughs. "Okay, sorry, I know it's serious, I was only joking. I mean, I'm not wrong. And it's not like he'd care anyway."

Sapnap glances up at Tommy, then back at George. "Still. That's not nice, and you shouldn't say it." Despite him scolding George, he sounds amused. They're just having fun.

"Okay, okay…" George looks away as he continues walking.

"Hey, do you think it's like, actually a good idea to give Tommy back to Wilbur? I mean, the guy is kind of nuts. What if he like, throws him into war again?"

"What, do you want to take care of him?"

"No," Sapnap laughs. "I don't. Maybe Bad would want to, though? Even if Tommy was kind of, well...they had a pretty interesting friendship I guess."

"Maybe… I mean, I guess if Wilbur tries anything, we can just have Bad come take custody of Tommy."

"Yeah. Yeah! Or they can have split custody, like divorced parents."

"Oh god, the idea of Bad and Wilbur getting married, hrrk." George laughs. Sapnap laughs too. Tommy doesn't.

"Woah--" Sapnap stumbles, because Tommy is pulling the two of them in a different direction. "Tommy, no, we're going this way, we need to go see Wilbur."

"See? I told you he doesn't want to go back," says George. But Tommy isn't trying to escape. He's trying to approach a stray sheep. He seems to want to pet it, trying to pull his arm away from Sapnap's grasp.

Sapnap lets go, allowing Tommy to touch the sheep. Tommy puts a hand on the animal, pressing into its soft wool. The sheep baa's at him. A small smile forms on his face, his one eye shining as he strokes the sheep, the other covered by an eyepatch.

"God, he's acting as if this is the first time he's seen a sheep," George whispers to Sapnap.

"Maybe he just likes the texture. I don't blame him, sheep are totally super soft."

"Okay, but we do need to get going. They're waiting for us. Come on, Tommy." George gives Tommy's arm a gentle tug. Sapnap takes his other arm, and they continue onwards, towards Pogtopia.

\---

Many minutes pass. Wilbur remains there, leaning against the entrance to Pogtopia, waiting in silence with Dream for Tommy to arrive. His mind is racing. The stress is so much, he can't help but talk to himself. Dream says nothing of it, listening idly.

"I should be excited, chat," Wilbur mutters to himself. "I should be grateful that he's even alive. But what if Dream is lying? What if Tommy isn't really alive, and it's all some cruel joke?" Still, Dream doesn't look at Wilbur, not even to defend himself. He understands that Wilbur needs to do this in order to maintain some semblance of sanity. So, he pretends not to hear it. "But what if he IS alive, chat. You heard what Dream said. That arrow went through his skull, even if he is alive he could be...seriously brain damaged. ...Is that even...is that even better than him being dead, chat?" Wilbur is quiet for a moment. Then he laughs. "That was a horrible thing to say, wasn't it, chat. Ohhh, God, I don't know, I just, I'm just so..." Wilbur leans his head against the wall, pressing his hands into his face.

"They're here," says Dream.

Wilbur lowers his hands, his eyes searching for Tommy. In the distance, through the trees, he sees them approaching.

Sapnap and George are on either side of him, each holding on to one of his arms. The boy is so much taller than both of them, so it's amusing seeing the two of them support him despite how much larger he is. The first thing Wilbur notices is Tommy's eyepatch. The memory of the arrow sticking out of Tommy's head, of the horrible sound it made when it struck him, of him falling to the ground immediately… they flash in Wilbur's head, and his breath is growing quicker.

"Hello, Dream! Hello, Wilbur. Here's uh…" George stops walking once he's gotten close enough to Wilbur and Dream, but he keeps Tommy's arm in his hand. "Here he is."

Wilbur steps closer. He stares Tommy in the face. He can't believe it. Last he saw this face, it was covered in blood and most certainly dead. This has to be some sort of miracle. "Tommy? Tommy, can you hear me?" Wilbur finds it unnerving that Tommy has yet to speak.

"Good luck with that, Wilbur, he still hasn't said anything since we woke him up," says George. "I don't even know if he--"

"Wilbur." Tommy states Wilbur's name, plain and simple. This astonishes George and Sapnap, as well as Dream. Tommy is looking up at Wilbur, with his one good eye. His head is still wrapped in bandages, his blonde hair sticking out in odd places. He pulls his arms away from George and Sapnap, who let go. He takes a moment to steady himself. He looks like he can't decide if he should hug Wilbur or not, but Wilbur decides that for him.

Wilbur pulls Tommy into a hug, and suddenly all of his tears come out. "I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, Tommy. I got you into this mess. I thought I lost you. Please tell me you’re alright, Tommy.” The others avert their eyes from Wilbur’s meltdown.

“Hello, Wilbur.” There is no hatred in Tommy’s voice. There’s no frustration, nor any hint of confrontation. He doesn’t even sound amused, either--he sounds faintly exhausted, but that’s about it. Wilbur pulls away, gripping Tommy’s shoulders and looking him in the eye, searching for anything recognizable. Tommy stares back, but there’s something off in his gaze, something missing. A smile grows on his face. “Hey, Wilbur. Ol’ chum.”

“Tommy? Are you feeling alright, Tommy?” Wilbur questions him. Of course Tommy isn’t feeling alright--he survived an arrow through his skull. They’re lucky he can stand, let alone speak.

Tommy doesn’t respond to Wilbur’s question. He just keeps staring at him with his one good eye, that vacant smile still plastered on his face. Wilbur’s grip on Tommy’s arms relaxes, as realization sets in. Tommy isn’t dead, but he’s not the same. They may not have killed Tommy, but, in a way, he’s still gone. They shall not be forgiven for this, Wilbur decides. They cannot be forgiven for so brutally injuring a boy so young, for something as simple as saving his friend’s life. They’re murderers with no morals, and Wilbur has to give them what they deserve. For Tommy.


	5. Back to Pogtopia

Wilbur holds tightly onto Tommy’s arm as he leads him down the cobblestone staircase into Pogtopia. He’s squeezing just a bit too hard, perhaps; he’s terrified of slipping or letting go, of losing Tommy again.

Tommy has no reaction to stepping foot into Pogtopia again, except for slight discomfort. Where is the sunshine? Where is the grass, where are the sheep and trees? This dark, cold ravine brings with it a sense of despair, a sense of desperate rebels hiding away in exile. He shivers, but says nothing. That is, until he sees Tubbo.

Tubbo had just come out of the entrance to the farm. Now that he’s been publicly removed from Manberg, he lives in Pogtopia full time. He hadn’t even had a chance to grab his belongings, so he’s been spending these past few weeks replenishing his resources. He has a full set of armor and tools, now. He hadn’t been the type to wear armor everywhere he went before, but now he does. Never know when someone’s going to try to kill you.

Neither Tubbo nor Technoblade were informed that Tommy was alive, so when Tubbo lays his eyes on him, he stops walking to stare in disbelief. Tommy notices Tubbo, too, and stares back at him in return. Suddenly Tommy is a lot more excited about getting down the stairs. Once he and Tubbo are on the same ground level, Tommy pulls away from Wilbur’s grasp to put his arms around Tubbo.

“Tommy, Tommy, I thought you were dead, Tommy!” Tubbo embraces his friend, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “You saved my life, Tommy! Thank you Tommy, thank you, I can’t believe you’re alive, oh my goodness…”

Tommy is overwhelmed, and doesn’t say anything. He just holds Tubbo close. After a few minutes, Tubbo pulls away to wipe his eyes. He doesn’t understand why Tommy isn’t saying anything, glancing from Tommy to Wilbur.

Wilbur doesn’t know what to say, he can’t bring himself to find the words. “He, uh…” Wilbur puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. His voice is quiet. “He’s hurt, Tubbo.”

“O-Oh…” Tubbo looks up at his friend, searching his gaze. Tommy looks somewhat concerned, which is better than before. He looks like he’s trying to think of what to say.

“Tubbo,” he starts. “Tubbo, I’m alright.” He doesn’t sound alright, nor does he look alright. He came so close to death, it will take a long time for his body and his mind to heal from this. Still, he offers Tubbo a small smile of reassurance. He forces his mouth to form words, for Tubbo. “I’m okay, Tubbo.”

Tubbo is silent for a moment, staring up at Tommy, looking at his bandaged head. His silence gives time for Technoblade to drop down from the ledge he had been sitting on, to approach the trio.

“This is the longest the guy’s gone without swearing at someone,” Techno states. He’s right--Tommy hasn’t shown an ounce of aggression since his return. Maybe he’s not capable of it. “Are you sure this is Tommy, and they didn’t just find some blonde orphan child and dress him up in a red and white T-shirt?”

“This IS Tommy,” Wilbur snaps. Who is Technoblade to joke about such matters, when it was due to him being ‘peer pressured’ that they got into this mess in the first place? It’s no use arguing over, though, Wilbur knows this. Technoblade makes jokes to cope. Still, Wilbur is frustrated. “I don’t know why he isn’t swearing. Maybe it’s because, oh, I don’t know, he got a fucking arrow to the head!?”

Tommy doesn’t seem to like Wilbur’s aggression. His hands reach out for Tubbo, to keep himself stable. Tubbo holds on to his arm to keep him steady.

“Yeah, are we not going to mention the fact that he’s, like, a literal zombie? How did he survive that?”

“Dream and his cronies found him, Techno. They used healing potions to keep him alive. It’s some sort of miracle.” Wilbur rubs his face with his hands. “It’s a miracle, but now...now…”

“Okay. So the guy’s got a little brain damage. That’s never stopped me! The joke is that I’m implying that I have brain damage, which I don’t, but my point is that I’m stupid, and I get by fine, so surely Tommy can figure it out.” Technoblade’s jokes aren’t exactly improving the mood of anyone around him. He falters, realizing this. “I mean...look. He’s a tough kid. He survived the unsurvivable, surely he can recover just fine.”

“Tommy, do you want to go lie down?” Tubbo looks away from Techno and up at Tommy. “You’re probably pretty tired.”

“Yeah,” says Tommy, but when Tubbo tries to lead him towards the sleeping chambers, he doesn’t move. He’s staring at Technoblade, who is growing somewhat uncomfortable by Tommy’s staring.

“What, was it something I said?” Techno gives a nervous laugh.

“Hello, Technoblade.” That’s it, he was trying to remember Technoblade’s name. He offers Techno a smile.

“Oh. Hello, TommyInnit. Pleasant day we’re having.” Honestly, Techno has never seen Tommy smile like that. It's strange.

“Alright Tommy, let’s go, you should get some rest,” says Tubbo as he pulls Tommy towards the sleeping chambers. Tommy goes with him, silent.

Techno looks at Wilbur once the two teens have left. He’s about to say something funny, but Wilbur doesn’t look receptive to humor right now. So, Techno mumbles an “I’m going to go check on the potatoes,” as an excuse to get out of there before he has to comfort anyone.

Wilbur doesn’t say anything as Techno leaves. He sits down on the ground, leaning against the cold stone wall, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling the dark pit of despair in his chest consume him.


	6. Arrows

As soon as he's finished with wallowing in his sorrows, Wilbur stands up quite quickly. He looks around the ravine, as if he could discern what time it was underground.

"Haha, how long was I out, chat?" he mumbles. It's not the first time that he's gone completely unresponsive due to the ever-consuming despair in his mind. However, it's never lasted this long before--it must have been hours that he's been sitting here, sitting on this cold stone ground.

He's hungry, but he ignores it. He has other priorities. He brushes himself off and heads to the sleeping chambers, where Tubbo took Tommy.

"Alright, Tommy, er, yeah, just try again." Wilbur can hear Tubbo speaking as he enters the chambers. He sees them there, Tommy sitting upright in a bed and Tubbo sitting on a slab beside him. Tubbo has taken some of his armor off, for the first time since he returned, except for his boots and helmet. Tommy is holding an unwritten book, and an inked quill.

"Oh, hi Wilbur! Tommy wouldn't go to sleep, so I uh...decided to see if he could still write! You know, since he can't talk all that well?"

Something about this scene amuses Wilbur greatly. Exiles, criminals, hiding away in a bunker, one of them injured beyond repair, and the other doing some sort of attempt at homeschooling. Imagining Tubbo, who's about as old as Tommy, dressed up like a teacher and instructing his brain damaged friend on how to count again--this tickles Wilbur's disturbed sense of humor, and he starts chuckling.

"Oh that's perfect. Oh look at you. You're like a little homeschooling teacher aren't you. That's absolutely precious."

Tubbo says nothing for a moment, meeting Wilbur's gleeful gaze with an undetectable degree of resentment. Must Wilbur always patronize him?

But it's not worth fighting over. "... There's something interesting here I think you should see."

"Oh yeah? What's that, Teach? Prof? Professor Tubbo?"

"I'm trying to get him to write the alphabet, right. But he just keeps drawing...arrows. He'll sometimes draw a letter if I really force him to, so I think he knows the alphabet? That's what I'm trying to find out. But it's difficult because he just keeps drawing arrows instead of listening to me." Tubbo puts a hand on the book, which Tommy had been actively drawing in. "Excuse me, Tommy, I need this." He takes the book and hands it to Wilbur, who sits down, as if he has the authority to, on the foot of Tommy's bed.

Wilbur flips through the first few pages of the book, which is as far as they have gotten thus far. Letters do appear, nearby neater examples clearly drawn by Tubbo, but the majority of the pages are covered in sketchy, almost desperate, drawings of arrows. Specifically the kind of arrow that one fires from a bow. Specifically the kind of arrow that pierced Tommy's skull.

"Ohhh, isn't that great!" Wilbur laughs. "Ohh, Tommy, that's wonderful, Tommy. You're traumatized! Look at that, Tommy, you know what this means? It means you're traumatized! Hurray!" Wilbur keeps laughing, pushing his hair out of his eyes with one hand and handing the book back to Tubbo.

Tubbo's eyes are fixed carefully on Wilbur. He can tell that Wilbur is having one of his bad moments. It's as if any second now, he'll start talking to his--

"Didja see that, chat? He's traumatized! Not only--not only is he brain damaged, he's also fucked up because of the trauma of it all, too! That's great. That's so funny, chat, did you see it? He was drawing arrows. Arrows, chat, the very same that went right through his damn--"

Tubbo puts a firm hand on Wilbur's shoulder. "Wilbur. I need to talk with you." This is the most assertive Wilbur has ever heard the boy get, and it's enough to get him to stop talking. "Come on, let's go." Tubbo stands up, expectantly.

"Aw, what?" Wilbur puts his arms in front of him and his palms up, shrugging, in a gesture to question Tubbo's decision. "I can't leave so soon. I haven't even gotten a chance to say hi to Tommy!"

Wilbur looks over at Tommy, who is already staring at Wilbur. Tommy doesn't look like the innocent, clueless homeschooling student that Wilbur had imagined in his amused fantasy. No, Tommy looks upset. Wilbur can't find the fiery rage that had once burned in that eye, but he can tell that Tommy is not happy. He's offended, he's hurt, he's repulsed by Wilbur's mockery. He's scared, too, of Wilbur's psychotic ramblings. No sane person would react like that. He looks too shaken up to say anything, and he's pressing himself against the wall behind his bed in order to move further from Wilbur. His face is wrinkled, slightly, bearing a smidgen of the contempt he was once so great at harnessing. Clearly, he is uncomfortable.

"Oh, Tommy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean," Wilbur lifts a hand to reach for Tommy, but Tommy closes his eye and turns his head away, not wanting to be touched. Seeing the boy who he had treated almost like a son express so much discomfort at his presence, it causes Wilbur to falter long enough for Tubbo to grab him by the arm and pull him to his feet.

"Let's go, Wilbur, outside." Tubbo pushes Wilbur along, a hand on his back, now, since with him standing his shoulder is too high up to comfortably reach.

Once they're outside of the sleeping chambers, with the door closed, Tubbo turns to face Wilbur. He doesn't say anything at first--his intense gaze is enough.

"What, what! What did I do! Why are you kicking me out, why is he so disgusted by me! What, are you two plotting against m--"

"Wilbur. You need to calm down." Tubbo keeps looking up at the man, trying his hardest to stand firm. "You need to be careful around Tommy. You can't start mocking him to his face. I know you can't, really, uh, help, the um, the talking to your 'chat', but, I suggest that you keep it away from Tommy, because it...it freaks him out, Wilbur! It freaks me out!"

Whenever his sanity is brought into question, Wilbur tends to avoid the conversation. But it's hard to avoid Tubbo's desperate eyes. "I'm… sorry, yeah, that, that was not okay of me to do, I just, I couldn't help it Tubbo, it was just so funny…"

"It isn't funny, Wilbur! Nothing about this is funny to anyone! Well, maybe it's funny to Technoblade. But still! It is not a situation in which a person should be laughing and poking jokes, okay!" Tubbo takes a deep breath. "I know it's hard, Wilbur. I can't imagine what it's like being in your mind. But you need to try to get a hold of yourself, because what you did back there, that was not okay."

Wilbur is still adverse to confrontation, and attempts to brush it off. "Right, right, okay, you're right, I'm sorry, I'm just under a lot of stress right now and I let it get to me. I'll be more careful in the future."

Tubbo looks Wilbur in the eyes for a few moments longer. "Okay. I don't think Tommy would want to see you right now, he's pretty worked up, so maybe I think you should come back after he's gotten to sleep."

"Who made you the authority on taking care of Tommy?" Any slight difference in power against Wilbur is enough to set him off. But Tubbo grabs his arm before things can escalate further.

"Leave it, Wilbur. Just leave it. Neither of us have authority. I'm just trying to do what's right."

Wilbur opens his mouth to protest, but thinks otherwise. He pulls his arm away. "Okay. Alright. You're right, no, I should let him rest. I'll just...wait, I guess." He looks away. "Tell me when he's ready to see me again."

"Will do. You rest up, too, Wilbur." Tubbo closes the door behind him, leaving Wilbur alone once more.


	7. Remembering

The creaking sound of the door opening causes Tubbo to flinch. He had been on the verge of falling asleep, sitting here beside Tommy, who was still drawing arrows in the book. It’s getting so late, Tubbo is hardly able to keep himself awake, he can’t imagine how Tommy isn’t asleep yet. To be fair, though, he had been presumably in a coma for quite a long time. He has had plenty of rest.

Tubbo looks up at the door, to see who had come in. Expecting it to be Wilbur, Tubbo had prepared himself with an argument as to why Wilbur can’t come in here, but, to his surprise, it’s Technoblade. Tubbo knows how bad Techno can be with awkward situations, and the social atmosphere of Pogtopia has been nothing but tense since Tommy returned. Still, Techno is here to speak with Tommy, despite how uneasy he seems. Though Techno and Tommy had only known each other for a short while, Tubbo knows that they have become close in that time. Duels in The Pit, elaborate schemes and scams, hours spent going back and forth with their weird senses of humor... Tubbo recognizes the bond between the two. So when Techno approaches Tommy’s bed, Tubbo stands, to allow Techno to get closer.

“Go ahead and go to bed, Tubbo. It’s late. You’ve dealt with a lot today.” As much as Tubbo has done a great job taking control of the situation in this crumbling hell of a resistance, he still is only a kid, and such a burden shouldn’t be his to bear. Techno knows this. “I’ll stay up with Tommy. Get some rest.”

“Alright, yeah,” responds Tubbo. He puts his hands in his pockets. “I guess I should get some sleep. Goodnight, Tommy!”

Tommy looks up from the book, at Tubbo, smiling. “Goodnight,” he mumbles.

“So, Tommy.” As soon as Tubbo’s gone to his bed a few rooms down, Techno starts talking. “I never took you for the artist type.”

Tommy watches Technoblade for a moment, then looks down at the book in his lap, at the quill held firmly in his hands. He doesn’t know why he keeps drawing these shapes--they’re unpleasant, they’re sharp, he hates them--but he can’t stop.

“Very fascinating stuff there. But let’s do something different, okay?” Technoblade takes the book out of Tommy’s lap, and gently pries the quill from his hand.

“T-Techno,” Tommy stammers out a protest as the quill leaves his grasp.

“Yeah yeah. Trust me, you don’t wanna be doing that.” Techno puts away the book and sits down on the slab beside Tommy’s bed. “So you remember my name. Technoblade. I mean, how couldn’t you, with a name that awesome?”

Technoblade searches Tommy’s features, expecting some sort of joke or insult to be hurled at him. Maybe Tommy would go on about how great his own name is. But neither of these things happen. Instead, Tommy just stares at him. He doesn’t look confrontational, nor amused. If anything, he just looks… somewhat confused, yet happy to see Technoblade. There’s something wrong with him, Techno can tell. He’s not like the old Tommy.

Techno swallows. “What else do you remember, Tommy? Did that little knockout of yours make you forget any incredibly crucial moments of me being awesome?”

Tommy thinks for a moment. “Well…” He hadn’t really worried about amnesia before. He thinks he remembers everything, but how would he know? His eyes move up to Techno, studying his face. He recalls the laughter, the screaming, the battles, the moments they have shared together. Even still, recalling doesn’t come easy, and it takes him a moment to figure his words into a sentence. “No, but it’s hard.”

“I see, I see.” Techno nods, as if he understands. “I get it. I have a terrible time remembering things sometimes, too. Directions are really my one talent in the remembering category.”

Tommy has gotten to thinking. He can recall the laughing and joking between himself and Technoblade so certainly, why isn’t it that way now? Why doesn’t he feel the manic joy he recalls feeling so frequently in the past?

“...Hey Tommy, are you feelin’ alright?” Techno eyes Tommy, who had been staring at him for a while now. “Or is randomly staring at people part of the norm now?”

Tommy looks away. He hadn’t realized that he had been staring. The two are quiet for a little while longer. Tommy doesn’t know what to say, and neither does Technoblade. But still, somehow, being in each others’ company makes them feel better. Eventually, Tommy turns to Techno, smiling.

“I’m alive, Techno.”

“You’re just now realizing this?”

“I’m alive.” Tommy puts a hand up to his bandaged head, instinctively, but he’s still smiling.

“...You wanna talk about it? About what happened?”

Tommy’s smile falters a little, and his hand presses into his head a little more desperately. “I shot you?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. You shot me. Right in the side. Knocked me right off of the presidential podium. Hurt like hell, and totally could have resulted in me dying gruesomely if it weren’t for my awesome trident, but, you know, I’m glad you stopped me. They would have forced me to kill Tubbo if you hadn’t shot me off that podium.” Techno’s eyes move to Tommy’s bandages. “It’s a damn shame they got a shot off on you in return.”

Tommy is quiet, the events flashing back in his mind. It had all happened so suddenly, so painfully, so abruptly. Then there was a long period of time where nothing happened at all, when he was sleeping most of the time. Then there was the time he spent waking up and recovering. He recalls most notably the sickly sweet taste of dozens of golden apples, which aided him in the healing process. He remembers strangers coaxing words out of him, except they weren’t strangers at all, they were Dream and BadboyHalo. They were so kind to him, then--it was the most kindness he’s received in a very long time. He closes his eyes. If he had to be honest, he wishes he could go back there.

“We’ll show them, Tommy, don’t you worry. We’ll avenge you. They will rue the day they thought they could take out a beloved member of our glorious--”

“Who is BadboyHalo?” Tommy interrupts Technoblade.

“Oh. BadboyHalo? He’s a… he’s buddies with Dream and the rest, he’s kind of a weird guy, he never swears.” Techno laughs. ”He often yells ‘language’ at people whenever they swear around him, super weird. You two had this bit where you’d curse at him and he’d get all worked up over it...good times, good times…”

Tommy nods. He remembers this. He remembers getting on the nerve of BadboyHalo, he remembers mocking his odd behavior endlessly, he remembers tormenting him by scribbling curse words on signs. Those memories of the past conflict with his recent experiences. Dream was there while Tommy recovered because he was his friend, but why would Bad stay at his bedside? It almost seemed like Bad was there more often than even Dream was. Why would this man who Tommy had done nothing but torment care so much about him, enough to go the lengths of caring for him as he made his recovery? Tommy can’t recall one nice thing he’s done for Bad, yet Bad still checked in, day in day out, to ensure that Tommy was doing well in his recovery. Why would he do that? Why would he care for someone who had treated him so vilely?

“Hey. Tell him I said hi.”

“You want me to...tell BadboyHalo you said hi?” Technoblade is confused, but he sounds amused.

“Yeah. Tell him...I said hi.”

“Okay.” Technoblade chuckles. “Will do, Tommy.”


End file.
